Thursday, January 13, 2011

Dear Mus Musculus,


(Or aka) Dear Mouse,

I'm not sure where you came from, but I do know you are aware of the fact that you are uninvited in my home. Maybe you are lost. I realize they've mowed the last of Farmer Micheal's hay and the hooves of Mr. Bonner's horses can wreak havoc on tiny rodent feet. But at no time did I open my doors and bid you refuge.

There may be some type of legal loophole that allows you to enter through the crawlspace, beneath an ill-fitting door, or to chew your way up from the foundation into my pantry. However, I have taken all precautions necessary to make your stay here as uncomfortable and brief  as possible. Some people may accuse me of cruelty for purchasing an array of torturous traps and cages in order to secure your farewell, but I feel that you are fully aware of the consequences of trespassing.


I have substantial proof that you lurk amid the baseboards and skitter beneath the cabinets. Only yesterday I found a colorful pile of confetti on my pantry counter top and recognized it at once to be my electric bill. Apparently you have a immense appetite for Orville Redenbacher popcorn, have never been properly housebroken, and have somehow managed to elude the eagle eye of our loyal- although sometimes lazy- canine companion.


In considerable discussions concerning the matter of your misdemeanor, my husband and I continue to wonder why our home did not attract a superior type of rodent such as Mickey or Minnie, Jerry (of the Tom and Jerry duo), mighty Mouse, or Stuart Little. There may have been a great reprieve for sophisticated vermin such as those. In fact, there may have been an actual welcome and a comfortable bed supplied accordingly.


An although I have a profound aversion to rattus norvegicus, I could only hope that if we had such an interloper, he would be Remy of Disney's Rattatouille fame and- of course, my kitchen and pantry would then be open with all the graciousness and hospitality of Martha Stewart.





However, since you have chosen not to introduce yourself, I can only assume you are a bubonic- plague-carrying, mite-infested, simple field mouse who must be eradicated at once. I've been assured by legal council that all attempts to secure your capture or untimely death is totally within my judicial rights and each of my execution tactics are favorably permitted by my state and local authorities.


This letter is to inform you that your breach of my home's perimeter and your blatant destruction of my personal property will be met with stringent and heinous means if such unpleasant force is deemed necessary by myself or other family members. Please be mindful that this will be your one and only warning and no amount of goodwill or promises will free you from these consequences.


Can you say "Cheese"?   


Sincerely and Vehemently,
The Lady of the House,
Rae

2 comments:

Cathy said...

Euwwwww... A very unwelcome visitor indeed! And though it's so cliche, I want to run to the nearest chair when I see one! Best of luck saying goodbye by whatever means befalls him!
Cathy

Dee said...

ROFL Good luck to you. Though, that story reminded me of a mouse that used to come out in the evenings and I would "share" crumbs with it on the floor.